


These Mess-Ups

by oxymoronassoc



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 13:23:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11231892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxymoronassoc/pseuds/oxymoronassoc
Summary: Post "Sacrifice". Kara deals with the fall out. Helo helps.





	These Mess-Ups

She knows she should let him go, but he's such a part of her; her echo, her compliment, the mirror to her own cracked soul. So she leaves him there, with _her_ , her replacement, only Dee isn't her replacement. Dee was made from the same mould as Apollo; Kara from its twin.

She leaves and finds Karl, teasing him with a light-hearted banter she doesn't feel. She suspects he sees right through it and doesn't care. He's her friend. She just hopes it is compassion, not pity, which drives him to agree to go work out.

"He's not going to die," Karl finally says, lollypop firmly tucked in his cheek as he spots her on the weights.

"I know," she tells him, voice a frustrated growl. "I know." 

"Then what's wrong?" he demands, settling the bar back into its holder.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Except…" She sits up, pressing her lips together so hard they turn white.

"Except what?" he prompts gently, handing her a towel.

"It's my fault," she whispers, covering her face with her hands, towel forgotten in her lap.

"Hey, hey, hey," he murmurs, sitting down next to her on the bench and putting an arm around her shoulders. "It could've happened to anyone. It was an accident." He makes a soothing noise and pretends not to notice her snuffling gently into her hands. The moment holds, the only sounds are her breathing in short gasps and his lollypop clattering against his teeth. It breaks as her shoulders tighten and she wipes her face roughly with her hands.

"I'm going to go take a shower," she tells him.

He simply nods, knowing she needs to be alone, and watches as she exits the room.

Kara can't get the water hot enough, can't scrub herself hard enough, and even as she wraps herself in a towel, she feels stained by her actions. She frowns at her reflection, then pulls her lips back in a horrible pantomime of a smile that slides into a grimace. Kara stalks out of the head, feet slapping wetly on the tiles as she makes her way into the bunks.

She tries not to look at his empty bed, but her eyes keep straying to it as she dresses. She's tried so hard to push him away, to save him from the destruction she always seems to bring on those she cares for, and in the end she hurt him anyway. Kara frowns at the picture on her locker, tracing her fingers down the slick paper before slamming the door shut hard. 

Karl hears her get up in the middle of the night. It's not uncommon for Starbuck to crawl out of bed and fumble around for her shoes, craving a midnight run to stave off insomnia. Normally, though, he hears Apollo a moment later, whispering softly to Kara's monosyllabic replies. Tonight, Kara is quiet and he can barely hear the patter of her feet as she opens her locker with a tiny metallic squeak and dresses with the soft hush of fabric on skin. Her sigh is loud in the dimly lit room as she pauses before closing her locker and exits through the hatch. He wonders if she was looking at that picture again.

She stands, hands in pockets, staring at him as he lies in the hospital bed. He looks dead, she thinks. There's a quiet whirr of machines and if she listens hard enough, she can hear him breathing. Kara tries not to inhale too deeply; the antiseptic smell always turns her stomach. She sits, finally, in the chair by his bedside, her eyes continuing to watch his face, pale and drawn even in a drugged sleep. 

After a long time, she picks up his hand. It's warm and rough and she fancies lacing her fingers through his for a moment before frowning at such a thought. Instead she turns his hand gently so his palm is facing up, and contemplates the lines there. She compares them to her own hand, tracing first her lifeline and then his. Kara finds herself tracing patterns of nothing onto his palm and puts her hands into her lap, feeling a little guilty.

She finally takes up his hand again, holding it gently. "Lee," she says softly, pausing to collect herself, which makes her feel foolish because he's fracking unconscious. "Lee, I'm sorry. Sorry that I hurt you…that I shot you. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to." She hasn't meant to do a lot of things, she thinks with a frown, squeezing his hand harder than she intends to. He shifts slightly and Kara quickly releases his hand. 

"Kara, I'm sorry," he mumbles, the words slurred together. 

Her frown deepens and she's about to reply when she notices he's still unconscious, eyes moving beneath closed lids. She wonders if he's dreaming or remembering. Either way, she doesn't think he has anything to apologize for. She picks up his hand again, rubbing circles into his palm with her thumb. He calms after a few minutes, brow smoothing. Kara smiles sadly. 

It's late when she leaves, her knee stiff from the cool temperature of sickbay. She limps for a good twenty feet before it straightens out and grimaces half of the trip back to the bunks. A sudden wave of exhaustion sweeps over her as she removes her shoes and changes into shorts. Her bunk lays unmade, blankets thrown back messily, and she suddenly doesn't want to sleep in it. Her eyes drift over to Lee's bunk and she shakes her head at the silliness of it. She closes her locker too loudly and someone stops snoring mid-snore. 

An hour later, after tossing and turning about in her suddenly comfortless bed, Kara rises and crosses over to his bed, crawling beneath the cool sheets, inhaling the smell of him on the pillow. She remembers just as she's about to drift off that she hasn't set her alarm ten minutes early and she'll be caught asleep in Apollo's bunk. But she feels so safe and comfortable and clean laying there in his bed that she doesn't care. 

Karl wakes her up the next morning, five minutes before Gaeta comes over the loudspeakers. He just smiles at her and she's not sure she likes the understanding in his face, but she nods her thanks, secret safe.


End file.
